Head to Styles’ lab to work with Michelle

Ah, back in the crusty old basement that Professor Styles calls her lab. The usual grad students are hanging by the blackboard at the back, puzzling over equations and diagrams that look much beyond your paygrade. They give you friendly waves as you come in and take a seat at your workstation. {if StyleLabCount == 1} You decide to pull up the project that you were working on last time,{else} Unsure of what to do, you access some of the files that you remember talking about before,{endif} just as Michelle comes into the room.

The dazzling dark-haired babe is dressed up nice today, wearing a pearl tea length jacket that spills over the office chair as she takes a seat next to you. She brushes her hair to the side and then glances over at your screen, a curious smile lifting the corners of her face.

“We’re working on something different today,” she says, pulling open her laptop.

“Uh… yeah, I knew that,” you say, trying not to look like a fool in front of her.

“No, you didn’t, because Styles just texted me about the new task,” she smiles, showing you her phone.

“Okay… so, maybe I didn’t,” you smile, and Michelle rolls her eyes, gesturing for you to read Styles’ messages.

You give it a careful look and then sit back, thinking for a second. How are you supposed to go about simulating protein-ligand docking? Where to even begin?

“Puzzled?” Michelle asks you, those green eyes of hers perfectly reading you.

“This task is hard,” you say. “There’s so many ways that a ligand can bind to a protein receptor… I can think of a way to start on the problem, but, man, I don’t know if I could write a program that will finish running by the time the Sun swallows the Earth…”

“Here, start with this,” Michelle says, sending you some files with a few taps on her laptop. “We worked on something similar last year. This should be something that you can adapt for our needs. It should be helpful.”

“Thanks,” you say, taking a quick look through her files. “This does look helpful.”

About half an hour later, you’re smiling as you watch your computer screen. A sequence of messages and numbers run down the side of your computer’s screen, but it’s the animation that’s got your attention. The little tubular ligand inserts itself into the protein’s target binding site, and you clap your hands together.

“Got it!” you exclaim.

Michelle raises an eyebrow and takes a look over at what you’ve accomplished.

“Very nice, a successful docking,” she mutters, sounding faintly impressed. Then, she takes a closer look at your screen, and gives you a hard look. “You really called the ligand ‘Alex’? And it’s inserting itself into the protein ‘Michelle’?”

“Just a bit of fun,” you laugh. Then, you shrug. “Or maybe not… after all, you’re the only perfect match.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

You move through a few interfaces on your computer, feeling Michelle’s gaze over your shoulder, before you pull up a long sequence of failed simulations.

“See?” you say, pointing at the red marks next to the proteins ‘Tatiana’ and ‘Imogen’ and ‘Savannah’ and many more to boot. “Alex failed to dock with all the others. Michelle’s the only action he’s getting.”

“Huh,” Michelle says, looking at the parameters governing those other proteins belonging to her sorority sisters.

“I think it means something significant,” you say, giving her a knowing smirk.

“Does it now?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yes,” you nod, resting a hand on her arm. “I think it’s a very good omen…”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” Michelle smiles, brushing your arm away. “Alex the ligand doesn’t match the description Styles gave us. See the molecule that you’ve got here? This one’s meant to bond to an oxygen, not ammonia. Different structure, different length… oh my, it looks like you’re selling yourself as longer than you really are...”

“Size queen, are you,” you laugh, changing the ligand on your screen to match Michelle’s description.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she replies, her voice dropping to a dusky timbre. Her hand’s suddenly appeared on your thigh. For stability, as she leans forward to survey your screen? Or something else…

“Seems like there’s something you’d like to know,” you tease. “You must be wondering, what is Alex’s real length?”

“It’s a difference of angstroms,” Michelle laughs as she points at the new ligand that’s appeared on your screen. “Anybody for whom that matters is tinier than a toddler’s…”

“Ahem.”

It’s a feminine voice behind you, clearing her throat. You and Michelle both freeze, staring at your screen, before you slowly turn, meeting each other’s eyes first, and then Professor Styles’ stern gaze. Oh no. She does not look happy.

“The two of you are meant to be working on protein-ligand docking, is that right?” she asks.

“Uh… yes, professor,” you gulp, “we were just…”

“Talking over some of Alex’s work. He made a nice improvement on our simulation process, here, let me show you—” Michelle says quickly, reaching for your keyboard.

“No, that won’t be required. I’m afraid this is missing something critical,” the professor says with a shake of her head as she looks down the list of failed simulations that you were showing Michelle earlier. Her face twitches.

“Missing something… critical?” Michelle asks, showing a hint of her nerves for the first time.

“Yes, very critical,” Professor Styles replies, reaching out and scrolling down through the list of proteins that ‘Alex’ failed to dock with. Her face twitches again. “I’m not sure I trust any of these results without it.”

You gulp again, feeling your mouth dry up. Have you fucked up your new job already? Are you going to be kicked out of the lab? And all that dirty talk that she must have overheard...

“You’re missing the protein ‘Amanda Styles,’” the professor says, and then she bursts out into laughter, unable to contain it anymore.

The laugh goes long enough for you and Michelle to share a look of bewildered relief, and then you’re right back at it, saying, “Oh, I’m sure Alex will fit right into Amanda Styles. The snuggest docking you’ve ever seen.”

“That may be,” Styles chuckles with a shake of her head, and then just as abruptly, she composes her expression again. “Okay, okay. That’s enough messing around. Let’s get back to work.”

With that, she gives the two of you a quick pat on the back, and then returns to her office.

“So…” Michelle says, looking at your computer once more. “Professor Styles. You want to dock with her?”

“We’ll have to wait and see what the simulations say,” you reply with a grin.

Michelle +10
Styles +5